Getting Here
by DarkBlueLight
Summary: Webb is not the average Hogwarts student. For one thing, she didn't come at all last year. For another, she has...issues. With reasons, of course. Reasons she won't even admit to herself.
1. Starting Out

Okay, so my life hasn't been perfect. Or close to perfect, but it's not all my fault! Just mostly...Now I have a choice on how much I can change this less than perfect life, by choosing which door I'm going to walk through. Left or right? Alone or together? Why not just simplify things and jump out window? No, that'd be bad. Not high enough up. So, I'll just take a deep breath, and remember this past year and figure out what would be best for everyone...mainly me.

I was sitting alone in the Great Hall, the day Hogwart's reopened for school. All alone at the Gryffindor table, before the train had even arrived. I didn't come on the train, Filch was sent to get me. My mother found that to be unreasonable, but I understood, seeing as I skipped last year completely. Meaning I skipped my sixth year and am now in my seventh, just like the golden trio.

I'm not bitter or anything, I just don't know them. I don't know anybody. Seriously, everyone calls me Webber, which would be fine if that was my actual name. And by everyone, I mean the teachers. My last name is Webb, so that's what I go by. It works. Looking back, it makes sense that none of the teachers got my name right. My first year, I refused to come. Filch was sent to get me then, too. I ended up getting there two weeks late. By then the main friendships had been established, the names learned, and the teachers knew who they needed to know. Leaving me out. Making me slightly happier to be stuck there. This first day was pretty much the complete opposite of my first first day, if that makes any sense. I just sat there, waiting. Not wearing my uniform, instead old jeans with more holes than what was countable and what was quite possibly my favorite shirt. A black tank top with the words "Keep Your Herpes to Yourself" in big, block, white letters on the front. All of that is nothing compared to the rest of me, I had some naturally weird hair. Long and straight, normal that way, but the coloring was copper, blond, gold and a little bit of natural silver. That's not a weird thing in my family, the silver. My great-grandmother, better known as Mammy, has the same thing, and so does her daughter, my grandmother, Gran, and my mother, Ma. Of course, some have more silver than others.

Still, I don't think my hair compared to my aviator glasses. Those were some hardcore sunglasses, black lenses with silver frames. Not only were they awesome for that, but also because I had a nasty cut right under my eye that was hid well by them. Now, I would love to sit and remember only what I was wearing, but after some fun cleaning my nails with my other nails, the doors opened, and the students who didn'tneed to be sorted came in. I barely looked up over my Aviators. People were evidently surprised to see me, which I figure since most of them watched me and the people from my own house filled in the seats farthest from me. Fine by me, I didn't like most of them anyways. The golden trio sat in front of me, but the redhaired guy sacrificed his sister to sit next to me. "Um, hi." the sister said, Ginny, but I couldn't remember then. "Mmhmm." was all I said back, still messing with my nails. The nails were just there to distract me, none of the dirt showed, the black polish hid it all well. The hum I gave as an answer worked, since no one really bothered me for the rest of the night. Those people were lucky to get a sound out of me, seeing as my first two years I did not say a word. Seriously, not a sound. I said it before, I'll say it again, I really really really hated that place. Dumbledore's speech droned on and on after the sorting. I didn't bother to applaud any of the first years.

The meal wasn't that memorable. They never were. I know the stories of the amazing food served in that place, but it's simply not true. The food was scary. There was no way of knowing if it was chicken being served or a friend of Hagrid. They never had anything Mammy made. Yes, my great-grandmother was still alive. She's an interesting character, moved to England from Old Country, wherever that is. So, Gram is British, along with Ma, but not me. I was born and spent my first few years in America, so no British accent. Another way I stood out at Hogwarts. Anyways, it was back at the common room, I was reading. Just reading, innocent and everything. I was reading Hogwarts, A History, for the umpteenth time. "Oh my goodness!" Hermione Granger cried out when she saw me reading this, I barely looked at her. "You're the other person who checks out that book!" she finished. I still didn't react. "Is this your first time reading it?" she asked. Obviously, she had never read of a hint. "No." I told her, hoping my body language would tip her off. "It really is a fascinating book, isn't it?" apparently I was not direct enough with my body language, so I just snorted a response. "You're the only person I've met who has read that more than once! Are you knew?" "Nope. Just didn't come last year." I told her. Turns out that might not have been the best idea, telling her that. It wasn't that she just clammed up at the mention of her last year, it's that she started talking to me. As in, a lot.

Hermione also means Ron and Harry, like I said before, the golden trio. Hermione always wanted to talk about books, and Ron and Harry didn't seem capable of hanging out with anyone else. For the first few days this whole interaction with other people at school wasn't so bad. They'd usually get my name right, and didn't ask too many questions. By the end of the week it got old,

"Is that your natural hair color?" "Is that a piercing?" "Is that a tattoo?" the list goes on and on, so many questions! And yes! Yes!! YES!!! Yeesh! Why bother with all of this? I never asked them any questions, but that might have been why they kept coming. You could say I respected their privacy, or that I was too shy, but in fact, I just didn't care. I didn't give a flying flip what happened that year I was missing. My own problems are enough, why bother with theirs? By the second week of class I did not even care about being nice. At first, I was almost trying, but by then, I didn't want to see any of them again. It's not that they were bad people, it was just that I was. So on the day that when Hermione was telling me about ANOTHER book in potions, it must have been fate that Snape saw.

"Do I need to seperate you two, Ms. Granger?" he sneered at us. I have never felt any kind of affection to a teacher except right then. "Yes." I chimed in, my head in my hands, looking at the table. Hermione gave me a look of surprise/disgust and Snape raised an eyebrow. "I do not appreciate this attitude, Ms. Webber, five points from Gryffindor." Ooh, that made me mad. I am not named Webber! "Webb." I corrected as he turned back around, but Snape stopped as soon as I said this. "What?!" he demanded in a cold voice, but he could of had a knife at my throat, wouldn't have stopped me. "You called me Webber. My name is Webb. I'm a seventh year, you can at least try and get my name right." I explained to him with an edgy voice. "I will not stand for this disrespect!" he spat at me, "Then sit down." I spit back. We were so close to having a cat fight it was beautiful. "Who do you think you are?!" he yelled at me, and I rolled my eyes. "I think I am Webb, seventh year here, wanting desperatly to be anywhere else. I am also an American, and I suspect that you don't want me to finish this list." I said it. Oh yes, I did. Why? I'm guessing because life was just TOO easy before. Before I could even take in the reaction of the class, meaning all the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherin, Snape had me by the arm and was dragging me to Dumbledore's office. I found it necessary to scream and fight until he finally let go. He fumed at me the entire way, I still have no clue what he actually said. I also don't know what Dumbledore said, I was forced to sit outside his statue. I sat there until I was sent to my next class. If only that had been the last of it.

Two days without punishment for potions. Two days! But was that the end of it? Noooo, I had to face the punishment two days later at breakfast. It was then that Dumbledore signalled me up to the teacher's table to speak to him. "Miss Webber, correct?" was the first thing he asked when I got up there. "Webb." I corrected for him, and he didn't seem to mind. "I owled your parents about the potions incident and am yet to receive a response. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?" he asked in a kind tone. "Well, if I ever meet my father, I'll make sure to ask him." I retorted, ignoring his kindly tone.

His brow furrowed for a moment, but then he dismissed me. I turned back around and before I had any real time to go anywhere, the Great Hall doors burst open. "Webb! Get your arse over here!" my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother burst in, my mother yelling. "MA!" I cried out, eyes big.

There is nothing worse than when my mother bursts into a room. It's not that she's a big fat cow, knocking everything down around her, it's that she's louder than a big fat cow, knocking everything down around her. "What did you do?! You didn't hit a teacher did you?! I took that blade away, did you get another one and stab another teacher?!" she snapped in her shrieking voice. She was really out of her mind, and a calm voice might have worked better, but I seem to have my mom's tempermant. "When will you get over that stabbing?! I told you! I cannot be held responsible for my actoins when I'm on heroine!!!!" as soon as I said that, my hand clamped over my mouth.

I knew that admitting that I did drugs was not a good idea, even if I did hate everyone in that place. "Will you stop with the drugs!" Gran yelled over both of us. "I'm off it! You know that!" I yelled back, mad that they could not wrap their minds around it. So, I used to do heroine. They knew it, I knew it, there was no need for the rest of the world to know it. "Give your arm!" Mammy hollered, wobbling over to me. She grabbed my arm with more force than what would be expected from a little old lady. She examined my elbow joint, squinting her eyes and mumbling to herself in the language of Old Country. "No new." she finally decided, and threw my arm down without being overly concerned with my suffering. "Did ye check her toes? She used to shoot up there!" Gran had to add. Okay, at first, I did. But that was when I just started out, and didn't want anyone to know what I was doing. After abut three months, I stopped caring and used my arms like everyone else. But now I didn't shoot up at all. Quit cold turkey, and boy that was hell. "Take off shoes!" Mammy ordered, and I rolled my eyes at her. So I had an attitude problem, but at least I was over my drug problem. "You couldn't be a normal child, could you?! I let you stay home for a year, thinking that would help, but did it? NO! You've never been this bad at this school! Are you trying to ruin my life?! You're doing a damn fine job!" Ma blabbed out in a yell. "Oh, puh-lease. I've heard the stories, I am still not as bad as you were." I told her, waving my hand for emphasis. "Webb, will you please-" "You named your daughter Webb?" Snape finally cut my mom off, snapping me back to realize that entire school was in the Great Hall, amused. "No, she refuses to go by her first name, Webb is our last." she explained, obviously unamused. "Is it a bad name?" he seemed to wonder out loud. "It's a beautiful name." she insisted, but my eyes narrowed as I told him, "It was the cats name. Ma named me after a cat. A dead cat!" I explained to him, never taking my eyes off my mother. "Perhaps, all of you would rather discuss this somewhere else." Dumbledore finally spoke. it didn't matter hat he had said, Mammy was already making her way to the doors, probably to find someplace to get away from the students. My great-grandmother never has been a fan of children.


	2. Shame of Gryffindor

I spent a week blonde. I knew the spell on how to change hair color by heart, I had sworn I was going use it so many times that itis forever embedded in my brain. It's never getting out. Ever. As the week went on people became more bold, as in going from staring to whispering, to staring and talking, to staring and talking to me. It was WEIRD. By talking to me, of course, I mean they would throw questions at me. Some I would answer, some I would ignore, some I would lie to. When a first year asked me how tall I was I couldn't help it, I told him that it didn't matter because I was slowly shrinking. I did this on a day I wore high heels, and the next day, no heels. The kid nearly passed out. It was fun for awhile, but then on Saturday morning mail came. I got a hisser from Ma. A hisser is rarely used, but it's like a howler that hisses instead of howls. It's a bit like a demonter. As soon as I opened it I felt the cold wind behind the words slide over me. That felt like falling into a bucket of ice. But hissers are so quiet no one else noticed.

"Hey! Look! Another attack!" Hermione proclaimed, looking over the newset edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Another?" Seamus questioned, eyebrows up in confusion. I felt the same way but didn't advertise it.

"Yes, third one this month. The ministry finally sees a connection, besides that it's all women getting attacked. Each one has a child that's only a few months old. Always outside, and each time the child was taken, but returned about a day later. It doesn't make any sense, why would the attackers take the child?" Hermione half read, half said.

"Obviously it's a weird prank." Ron threw out of nowhere. Instead of anyone person asking what he meant I'm pretty sure everyone who heard him threw a weird look his way.

"Well, think about it. They never kill the mothers, just attack, and they return the children, as if they just want to scare someone really bad." his words made sense. It was an excellent way to explain it. No need to wonder, he had obviously spoken he truth. Pfffft.

I changed my hair color back to what's natural that Monday, during potions. I was bored, had a wand, badaboombaddabing. Entertaining, wasn't I? No, I was not, but this is about the time that things get interesting. My next class was DADA and as most already know, there was a need for a teacher. So, Dumbledore or whoever was in charge of this, hired a perfectly normal lady. Professor Tarr. She wasn't great, she wasn't horrible, she just was. I think she must have noticed how no one was particularly riveted by her teaching performance, so she brought in a visitor. Remus Lupin, the former DADA teacher strutted into the room as if he had never left. I barely reacted, he hadn't taken a real notice to me or vice versa, but the rest of the class was either thrilled or distraught. The room was literally in hysterics, Professor Tarr was loving it. Lupin was eating it up, feeding his ego as if he had just received an Emmy. I just sat there, unimpressed. "Is there a problem, Miss Webber?" Lupin asked, "Webb." I corrected, and then continued just sitting there. Neville, who got sitting next to me, was the only person I noticed giving me a slightly confused look. "What?" I asked him, shrugging my shoulders as I did just in case he didn't know what I meant, and he finally said "It's just that...you're not really...reacting." he sputtered out, and I shrugged again, but this time with no words to go with it. The room went back to chaos, I continued sitting, and recieving odd looks from the former and current professors. It didn't bother me though, I was paying attention to people's reactions. I went so long being silent in that school that I heard just about everything. I knew secrets that should embarrass the boldest of any group. I knew that Seamus was afraid of the dark, and Neville had a severe food allergy to tomatoes. Not average information. The class went on and on. I could hear Slytherins hissing about how much they hated that Lupin was back. He went in front of the class and started telling everyone that he would be there for tutoring on days that weren't full moons. He had missed the class, blah blah blah, he was sure it'd be worth while, yadda yadda yadda. That didn't interest me as much as the way he had a Daily Prophet sticking out of the pocket of his robes, turned to the same article that Hermione had read that Saturday morning.

As soon as that class was over I shot out as fast as I could, I was tired of the discouraging looks. Apparently, it was my job as a Gryffindor to be overjoyed at the return of the great and wonderful Remus Lupin. Oops.

"Well, that was odd." Draco Malfoy commented as he walked right next to me. He didn't notice I was right by him, he was talking to fellow Slytherins.

"Did you see the way all the Gryffindors were practicly fighting to see who could get their lips on his buttcheeks first?" Draco cracked and, uh oh, I laughed. That brought attention to me, and Draco wasn't happy that his little comedy routine was being overheard.

"Find that fun do we, WebBER?" he asked, emphasizing the fact that he had intentionally gotten my name wrong. That bitch.

"Well, you would, wouldn't you? I mean look at you, you're the Shame of Gryffindor!" as soon as he said that his posse, as I like to call them, burston out laughing. The usual people, Parkinson, Goyle, Crabb. And their laughter secured my new name. I went from being called Webber to the Shame of Gryffindor at that moment. The name spread like wild fire, and by dinner all of Slytherin was calling me that when I walked by. It didn't actually bother me, I knew why they did it. It's not as if my family hadn't been standing in the middle of the Great Hall accusing me of being on drugs again before. By the end of dinner Ravenclaw knew the name. By the time it was curfew Hufflepuff was enjoying my name. By breakfast the next day my house was pretending to be upset by the name, but calling me that when they thought no one was listening. That was what started to bother me.

The way I saw it, my house was either with or against me, and they were trying to be both. Uh uh. I could see their death stares sent at anyone Slytherin who uttered the name Shame of Gryffindor but then I'd see the amused looks when somone such as Dean Thomas used it. They thought I didn't know, but they were clueless to how much I knew. I knew what they told their friends, and the more they called me Shame of Gryffindor, the more I learned. I bet none of them knew that there were spells that would copy words written in diaries onto parchment. I decided that if I was going to be reffered to as the Shame of Gryffindor by Gryffindor there was no was in hell I was not going to deserve it.

When my housemates tried to continue this wild and crazy normal conversation concept we were trying to carry on I went alon with it. I didn't sass talk or tell secrets, I wanted to see if they'd feel guilty about how they treated me when they thought I couldn't hear them, but they never seemed to. Even the golden trio, the group that seemed to try the hardest to be my friends kept calling me the Shame of Gryffindor. I'm almost positive I heard McGonogall mutter that in the hall when I walked by. Okay, that was crap. I'm not gonna sit here and say that I did the smartest thing, but I'm not gonna say that it was a bad idea. I did the only thing that would make everyone happy. I started acting like the shame of Gryffindor.


	3. Daddy Dearest

"I think you fathered my grandchild." Gran flat out said this to Lupin. Ma's eyes bugged, his jaw dropped, and I almost threw up on myself. Remus just kept letting his mouth hang open, as if he had lost the strength to shut his mouth. What was he so worried about? I didn't want emotional support, I didn't want financial support, I didn't want anything from him. I didn't even want to know who he really was. Yet he thought of himself as stuck. There wasn't even solid proof at that time, except for dates and the looks, which was pretty solid...but I still didn't feel like accepting him in anyway whatsoever.  
"I need a drink." I mumbled a little too loudly. Ma heard and shot me a look. Woops, I'm not supposed to drink. I also wasn't supposed to drugs. What a bad child I was. Oh well...can't change the past. Remus was yet to close his mouth and I was starting to wish a bug would fly in there. A big bug. Maybe a bee. Bleh.  
"Fine, I'm going in. Following would be a bad idea." I fumed, and then walked as calmly as I could to the Great Hall. It was dinner time, I just went there on impulse. The first thing I did was sit down at the first seat available at my house table and examine the food. Icky, all of it. I just laid my head down where my plate would have been and tried to analyze the situation. I couldn't. I ended up chewing on the band of my watch so as to keep my sanity a tad bit longer. I never understood the loveliness that is leather until I did this. I must have looked like a hamster. At least I would have been a happy hamster. I would have been content to do that for hours if someone hadn't started tapping me on the head. I looked up to see none other than Ginny Weasley looking at me with more than a little confusion across her face. "Are you okay?" she asked with wonderment.  
"Oh, I'm fine." I said in a fake voice, waving my hand as if to say 'pish posh' to the very thought of not being wonderful at that moment.  
"What happened to your eye?!" she cried out, astonished. I immediatly put my hand to my eye, but then remembered. It was the nasty cut I had had since school started, before actually. I had been in a fight against some chick. She started it. Filch ended up breaking it up when he arrived to drag me to the horrid school. He had ended up laughing at me for fighting. "It's just a cut...I got in a-nevermind. No need to worry. No one else has even said anything...even though I was just with my family...and none of them even noticed..." realization hit me like a brick right then. Ginny Weasley did not even know my name but she had cared enough to ask about the horrible claw mark in my face, my own flesh and blood hadn't even noticed. Oh, if I was a person who cried, I'd be bawling at that moment. Oh, how I'd cry. Instead, I stayed in character and got incredibly pissed off. I slammed my hands down on the table without even meaning to and raised myself up off the chair. I let my legs decide where I was going, all the rest of my body knew was that I needed to be alone and that would be a difficult task where I was. 

My legs decided that I should hide out in the common room. I don't know if I told the password or the Fat Lady just saw my mood and let me in. I really wanted to punch somebody, which was ironic since that's what had gotten me in the whole cut position to begin with. I realized that I was in the common room after a few minutes, and looked around. The room seemed huge when it was empty. I had the choice of any couch or chair in the whole room. That was too much to think about right then. I just let my legs give and set me on the floor. I felt as if someone had used the Cruciatus curse on my brain. I hadn't felt that bad since...well, a while.

Life would have been easier if I had been left to sit on the floor, but for some reason the school insisted that I go to class on Monday. I wore my aviators. Those glasses were meant to be a warning sign of 'don't mess with me' and it worked. Remus wasn't in DADA, probably avoiding me. A smart choice. In Care of Magical Creatures I purposely let one of the meaner creatures loose. That was funny. Hagrid got it contained right away, and since I was a Gryffindor no points were taken away. Teehee. At dinner another Daily Prophet was released, another attack had happened. It was disturbing. I didn't understand. Why would someone do that? And why wouldn't they kill anyone? Not that I wanted anyone to die, but that's what was expected to happen. It was all very illogical. I did not and do not like the illogical. More than that I did not like the nervousness that the whole situation put in my stomach. I especially did not like not knowing why this was happening. Why? Who? How? How could someone or some group of people being attacking in broad daylight and no one ever seeing a face? How could the mother's all miss that? It wasn't right.

The next day I escaped the Great Hall a few minutes early, looking forward to a few minutes alone. That didn't work, as soon as I was a few feet from the Great Hall and lost in my mind, a hand grabbed my arm. Not tightly, but still I instinctively ripped it away as if I was in pain. "What was that about?" the grabber, better known as Draco, asked. "I don't like being touched." I responded coolly.  
"I saw Weasley tap your head and you didn't flinch like that." he retaliated.  
"Fine, I don't like it when guys touch me." I told him back. His eyebrows shot up and he looked rather amused, "Oh, you're one of those girls." he emphasized the word those, as if those girls were the reason for the amusement in the world.  
"No, I just don't like to be grabbed. So don't do that." I kept the emotion out of my voice, but for once in his life Draco figured out that he really should keep his mouth shut. I was grateful, but would have been actually happy if he hadn't insisted on following me.  
"So, Webb, where are we going?" he asked casually, as if he had planned on taking this minitrip with me all along.  
"We?" I was hoping the tone in which I had said that would scare him off, but he just grinned. Draco really wasn't a bad guy to me, but he also wasn't what would be called 'friend-like.' Our hanging out wasn't because we wanted to, or at least not for me. It seemed to just be conveniant more than anything else.

Remus was waiting for me when I finally made my way to the Fat Lady.  
"We need to talk." he immediatly insisted.  
"No, I need food, shelter, and clothes. Talk is not one of those things, therefore I do not need it, and I am going to go. I have homework." I was cold, I ignored him when he protested and I ignored the way people muttered "Shame of Gryffindor" when I came in. The news that I was wandering the grounds with Malfoy (the horror!) spread like wild fire. Wild fire with the help of several tanks of gasoline. I kept my head down and my aviators on. Those sunglasses were my security blanket. With those on, no one could see into my eyes, which are the windows to the soul. I didn't want anyone peering in the windows and examining my soul. Bad people! Shoo! Away from the windows! I never actually said those words, those people were looking for a reason to commit me, I just pulled my fingers across my scalp to move my hair around. Another hand landed on my shoulder, it tried to pull me around, but I instinctively pulled away, this time with more force than before. My aviators fell down on my nose so that my eyes were exposed as I looked at the owner of the hand with big eyes. I knew it wasn't Draco this time, and I also didn't want to have to deal with anyone else badgering me on why I hated being touched. "Sorry, it's just that Lupin wanted"  
"I know what he wanted!" I cut Harry off in a tone that was sharper than I had intended, but I didn't bother to apoligize. I doubted that Remus had told anyone, he was ashamed, I could see it in his eyes. He heard the way I was called "Shame of Gryffindor" and didn't want me to be his daughter. It was a mutual feeling. The only thing that made sense to me was to avoid him, ignore him, and never accept him. Harry was rather offended by my attitude, and his wand, which had before been hanging loosely at his side simply because hadn't bothered to put it up, was in my face. Before he had a chance to say anything I ripped the wand right out of his hand and stuck it up his nose. He was too surprised to do anything, and I just giggled childishly and walked away.


End file.
